


A Raven's Watch

by Driehoek



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Nonbinary Characters, Origin Story, Other, Rating May Change, also ill try to follow titanfall lore but im in uncharted territory here so hold on, bloodhound's origin story, cw: descriptions of death of a close family member, cw: descriptions of violence against a tribe, like the birdkeeper needs love too..., there will be some shipping later on but ill tag accordingly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 00:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20751263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Driehoek/pseuds/Driehoek
Summary: They were in touch with nature like no one else in their tribe, knowing exactly what to give and take from the woods as to not disturb nature's delicate balance. They knew peace, until the soldiers arrived.When everything familiar they ever knew was violently torn away from them, in the moments when they felt life starting to drain from their body, all they had is their faith... and the Allfather answered their prayers, but not without consequences.-- WONT BE CONTINUED!--





	A Raven's Watch

The winds had changed.

  
They noticed as they climbed up the side of the tallest hill, boots sinking ankle deep into fresh mud with every step. The rains had passed, and now the winds blew in their direction. This meant it was time to harvest their fruits and grain, it meant it was time for celebrating what the soil gave them. This year, however, they feared what the winds might carry ashore.

  
They wrapped their heavy scarfs around them more tightly. Even after all these years, the storms of the early autumn could still make them shiver.

  
Sigri was standing on top of the hill, the long fur on his coat dancing around in the remnants of the storm that had recently passed.

  
He knew it was them without looking up.

  
“They’re here.”

  
Those two words struck fear into their heart. They walked up right besides him, looking out over the vast sea below. Specks of light danced on the waves. They held up their hand just below their eyes as to not be blinded.

  
By the gods, Sigri was right. In the distance, just below the horizon, the outline of six ships could be seen.

  
“How do we know it’s them?” they asked, trying to conceal the nervous hitch in their breath. They needn’t ask: the sails of the ships had the sharp outline of the Empire’s fleet, and they were fast, fast enough to reach the shores before dusk.

  
“You already know, Hrafn,” Sigri said, raising his arm to their shoulder. His hand was heavy, in a comforting way. It felt safe.

  
His features were distorted by a mixture of fear and sadness, melancholy maybe, a combination they hadn’t seen before. Coming from Sigri, it was alarming.

  
They lifted their gaze to meet his, they could swear there were tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

  
“I do not know what this night will bring,” he said, “but I want you to know I have always loved you like my own kin. We are not related by blood, but we might as well be.”

  
“There is no time to be sentimental,” they said sternly, averting their glance and clenching their jaw, ignoring the tight feeling in their throat. “We need to defend what’s left of our tribe. The Empire cannot take what’s ours. They have taken too much already.”

  
Sigri inhaled deeply, and sighed with a sound so fierce it almost made them recoil. “No, Hrafn, there are too few of us. We will not be able to defend ourselves. It’s over. We have to surrender peacefully while we still can.”

  
Fury rose in their throat. They tried to swallow it back down, but the words poured out anyway. “What do you mean? How can it be over? The Allfather will protect our villages, he will guide us to a future without the Empire! Do you not believe in him?”

  
Sigri looked extremely distraught, and they almost felt bad for him, if it weren’t for the fact that they were now fighting tears of anger.

  
“I will not surrender to the greed of the Empire,” they suddenly yelled, no control over the volume of their voice. “I trust in the Allfather and the fate he lays out for us!”  
“Elskan,” Sigri started cautiously, which only fuelled their anger, yet they let him speak.

  
“Of course I trust the Allfather only wants the best for us… but I fear that he wants us to surrender. Maybe we will find a better future if we do not have to ward off attacks every new moon. We have lost too many this way.”

  
The image of Sigri was now swimming in their field of vision, they blinked and two tears fell down their cheeks. They did not want to surrender. They wanted to fight the Empire, even if it meant the end of them. It felt like they betrayed the Allfather if they didn’t at least attempt to defend their tribe.

  
“_Elskan_.” Sigri gently caressed their grey hair. “It’s alright.”

  
They finally stopped struggling against their emotions and burst into tears, leaning into the large man’s chest, looking for the slightest bit of comfort. Even though they knew Sigri would not judge them for showing weakness, and even though his embrace reminded them of simpler times, they did not feel safe, the dark pit in their stomach growing ever larger.

  
The two descended the hill together, arriving back in the village as the sun started to set.

  
Torches had been lit and mounted atop poles across the village, people were packing their few possessions into knapsacks, children were quietly sitting with their parents instead of running around. Everyone seemed… resigned. Everyone knew what was going to happen. Or at least they thought they did.

  
Everyone respectfully acknowledged Sigri as the two entered the village. The bloodhounds kept near Sigri’s longhouse barked enthusiastically as they smelled the hunter coming near.

  
They sat down in the middle of the pack, smiling joylessly as the dogs licked the salty half dried tears off of their face and jumped up against them. The only living beings they trusted in this damned village were Sigri and the dogs.

  
Sigri had taken them in when they were a young child. He had been spouseless and childless for his entire life, even though he was nearing his 60th year. They had been an orphan for as long as everyone could remember. Their father and associated mother had died an honourable death in battle shortly before they were born, and their carrying mother had grown sickly and passed away shortly after giving birth to them.

  
From a young age they had been taken on the hunting party by Sigri, which was for the better. People were afraid of the weird child that lost all of their three parents at a young age and looked at footprints and leaves and talked to birds perched around the village. People thought they were a bad omen, so they did not want to be reminded of them. The hunters didn’t judge, and neither did the dogs.

  
They truly had a gift for hunting. It got to the point where they would bring in the majority of the game when they were out hunting with a party. They could read the dogs’ body language perfectly, and the dogs followed their commands fluently. Before long, the hunting party consisted of only them and the pack, other hunters were simply superfluous. At the age where other people would stay around the village and have children, they only cared about the hunt, even as their hair started turning grey and their limbs stopped growing.

  
Even though they were part of the tribe and even though people nowadays generally respected them as they were the person to bring in their meat and hide, no one would join them in defending the village if they so proposed.

  
So now they sat between the dogs as night fell across the land, silently counting the moments until the ships would navigate ashore.

  
Everyone started moving towards the docks as the ships slowed to a halt. Many were carrying their possessions with them, wrapped in blankets as if expecting to be taken on a long journey to wherever the ships wanted to go.

  
They did not want to follow, but once they saw Sigri made his way to the docks as well, they begrudgingly followed. They did not want to, but they wanted to oversee the situation, they did not trust the Empire at all.

  
They sat just out of earshot as Sigri talked to the Empire soldiers that had now set foot on their land. They weren’t able to see see their faces, the soldiers wore wide brimmed hats with antler-like decorations mounted to the front and heavy armour that distorted their silhouettes. They didn’t even look human, they looked like the demons the stories had always made them out to be. At least this time they negotiated? At least this time they didn’t keep their ships floating offshore at a distance that was a little too close for comfort, mercilessly sinking any rowboats that went to investigate?

  
The Empire had technologies no one in their tribe wanted to know, the technologies that were made for death and destruction, the technologies that sailed their ships to other planets in the night sky.

  
They genuinely thought this visit would be relatively peaceful, until they saw Sigri’s body language change. That was alarming. The tribe’s head was always composed and calm, and now he seemed… agitated.

  
They frowned, jumped to their feet, and at exactly that moment Sigri moved forward, his hands gesturing to articulate his words… and the two guards raised their arms, a weapon suddenly there, a sword that spat fire, and Sigri fell down.

  
They heard a scream, undoubtedly their own, and suddenly their feet carried them in Sigri’s direction. The gathered crowd dissipated quickly, bare feet running, children carried in their parents’ arms, people screaming, crying, running for their lives.

  
Even though their instincts screamed otherwise, they only thought to run in the opposite direction, to Sigri.

  
A deafeningly loud sound from the ships, almost like a foghorn, made people cower and cover their ears, still moving toward the village, albeit slower now.

  
They looked up, momentarily distracted from Sigri. A row of lights at the side of the ships lit up for a moment, ever so slightly, and a whistling sound was heard. They instinctively followed the sound, turning their head to gauge the direction. The sound moved.

  
Oh, gods. No.

  
Suddenly, the village was engulfed in flames. People were screaming, were they on fire? Soldiers were suddenly everywhere, chasing people into the burning houses, firing their weapons.

  
They froze in place for a moment, blood rushing in their ears, their thoughts racing and weighing their options. Were they going to help the citizens… or Sigri?

  
A muffled, laboured cough answered that question for them. They quickly closed the dashes separating them from tribe’s leader, and they fell to their knees.

  
Sigri was barely conscious, a gaping hole in his abdomen, two light eyes in his dark face fluttering open and close. The blood soaking his clothes was beginning to stain his fur coat.

  
_Prey. _That was the only coherent thought that formed in their mind.

  
“_Hrafn_.” He raised a trembling hand. It was cold to the touch as they grabbed it, his blood now staining their hands.

  
“Sigri. Sigri.” They wanted to ask so many questions, but they knew the answer. Sigri would not survive. His injuries were too grave.

  
Emotions clouded their vision and closed their throat.

  
Sigri knew. Even as he was dying, he knew the person he saw as his own child more than anyone else.

  
“There is no time to cry, elskan,” he said, his breath ragged and his voice hoarse. He clenched their hand more tightly. “They’re not here to take us. They’re here to destroy us. They want our lands, our resources, not us.”

  
‘I told you,’ they wanted to say, but that wouldn’t have changed anything. Resistance wouldn’t have stopped the soldiers from bombarding their village with the whistling fire.  
They looked up quickly, it was almost impossible to tear their eyes away from Sigri. The flames were high now, and the screams were fewer.

  
“You have to run.” There was urgency in Sigri’s voice. “They cannot take you. You’re special. From the moment I first met you, I knew the Allfather had special plans for you. Run, elskan.”

  
“But how?” they exclaimed. “The soldiers are everywhere! They’ll find me, I’ll suffer the same fate as the others!”

  
Sigri shook his head, his face painful. “No. You have spent years learning everything in order to become the perfect hunter. There is not a single soul to rival you. You know what must be done… to be the prey that outruns a perfect hunter.”

  
Sigri’s free hand slowly disappeared underneath his coat, pulling out his sheathed dagger. “Take this. Run. Don’t let them catch you. You are a true hunter. You are… a bloodhound.”

  
They carefully took the dagger from him. It was heavy in their hand.

  
Sigri’s hand fell down limply as he let go of the dagger. They looked up at his face, panic rising in their chest. His eyes were cold and unmoving, his face relaxed.  
Sigri Eiðursson had passed away.

  
They swallowed thickly, allowing themselves to shed a single quiet tear, a single quiet scream of frustration. They quickly composed themselves, closed Sigri’s eyes in one gentle move.

  
“Until we meet again, _Faðir_,” they whispered. “Until Valhalla.”

  
They grabbed his limp hand, closed their tear filled eyes and pressed one last kiss to the skin that was still deceptively warm to the touch. Then they pushed away all emotions, rose to their feet, renewed fury burning in their chest, and ran for the woods.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation of words used:  
Elskan: darling, love  
Hrafn: raven  
Faðir: father  
the chapter 1 title is a lil pun: icelandic names have a patronymic naming system, if you're a child of a dude named sigri your last name will be something like sigrisson (son of sigri) or sigrisdóttir (daughter of sigri). since bloodhound is nonbinary, they are sigrisbarn (child of sigri)
> 
> A/n: hi ho it's me again with a story that's probably been told 8345348957 times already, yet i wanted to try my own hand at it and see if i can try to not make it *too* cliché hehe
> 
> also "the soldiers wore wide brimmed hats with antler-like decorations mounted to the front and heavy armour that distorted their silhouettes" does this ring a bell? anyone? wink WINK?????


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